Still Alive
by this be a dead account
Summary: If this was really what Sasori wanted, then he would so willingly give it to him. How could he deny the sweet boy of what he needed, anyhow? If it was his life that the redhead wanted, then of course he could take it. Sandaime x Sasori, T for violence.


**A/N: **You wouldn't believe how long this sucker was staying on my computer. 8D The world needs more SandaimeXSasori, seriously. ^^ So voila! Please review to tell me your opinions. :D Oh, and also- I couldn't exactly call Kaze "Kazekage" or "Sandaime" the whole time, so I gave him a name. A person on Yahoo!Answers suggested it- Satetsu. It literally means 'Iron Sand', and well, it's a cool name, and he works with iron sand, so what the hell? Thanks!

**Credits: **I own nothing. The characters belong to Kishi, Sandaime's new name to the person who came up with it, and the quote to Stephanie Meyer.

* * *

"_When you loved the one who was killing you, it left you no options. How could you run, how could you fight, when doing so would hurt that beloved one? If your life was all you had to give your beloved, how could you not give it?  
If it was someone you truly loved?"_

~Breaking Dawn, Stephenie Meyer

* * *

"Satetsu Kazekage-sama, the cell you ordered on the search mission is back."

The black-haired man looked up wearily. "Any success?" He asked, the thinnest lining of hope in his hoarse voice.

The assistant shuffled his feet, averting his gaze awkwardly, staring fixedly at the floor instead. "Sir… We've been looking for him three months now. If he doesn't want to be found, we won't be able to find him."

The brunet clenched his fists in frustration. "I know. You have a point." He cradled his head in his hands for a moment, before quietly giving in. "Alright. Call off the search squads."

The reporter's brow lost its crease of worry, replaced by the smooth calm of relief. "Arigatou, Kazekage-sama." As he shuffled backwards out of the room, he repeated, "Arigatou."

As soon as the door shut on the assistant's heel, Satetsu gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the disappointment in his heart. "Sasori…" He hissed in pain, closing his heavy eyes. He didn't understand why the prodigy had left Suna. In the village, he'd received so much support and care from his peers and mentors… _ So much love._ The Kazekage exhaled in a short breath, remembering the feel of the boy's soft lips under his own, moving in sync with a deep, thrumming rhythm. There'd been no reason that he would leave…

But at the same time, he couldn't forget the look in Sasori's eyes two days before he'd gone missing. The boy had come to visit him as they'd decided for him to weekly, and after they'd finished with romanticisms, they'd sat together on Satetsu's bed, the younger wrapped lightly in his mentor's arms.

"_You're quiet," Satetsu__noted, looking into the crimson eyes. "Is something wrong?"_

_"No," Sasori replied casually, leaning into his teacher's chest. "I'm just a little stressed by all this ninja work on top of… us… but that's only to be expected."_

_"We can stop," Satetsu offered, trying to hide the discontent in his voice. "I don't want you to lose your focus because of me. I'm still the Kazekage, you know. I have to care about my ninjas," he teased, hoping that this wasn't the case._

_To his relief, the redhead only rubbed his eyes in an exhausted way. "No, I'm fine. I'll work it out."_

_Accepting this, he turned the face toward his, leaning down to peck at the lips softly. A small smile turned his lips as he heard Sasori inhale in surprise, and he kissed again and again, but was stopped by a small hand on his shoulder._

_"Satetsu… I'm not in the mood." He heard the boy mutter, a tainted, black aura hanging over the words._

_The Kazekage opened his mouth to speak, but then the redhead stood up, and walked out of the door, only turning to look at him once with his clear ruby eyes, before he left._

_The irises held none of the familiar emotions that had been in there- joy, misery, lust, depression. Instead, they were empty. _So empty.

Trying to keep the tears of frustration from falling, Satetsu stood up from the desk, striding shakily to the conjoined room where his bed was. He fell limply on the furniture, breathing in the comforting smell of rested nights and whispered confessions. He lay on his side, staring dully out the round window, coal eyes searching the wide spread of desert for any weak hope. Eyelids heavy with missed sleep over worrying, he let himself drift off into a light slumber.

When he woke up, it was the middle of the night. This was obvious by the freezing temperature in the room. The Kazekage swore under his breath as he sat up, running his hands over his arms quickly, trying to quicken the circulation in his veins. But the unforgiving nocturnal desert conditions were not responsible for his waking up. He looked blearily at the window, where a persistent tapping sound clanked impatiently.

Frowning, he shivered as he walked to the glass, blinking out. A large hawk was there, arrogantly clacking away at the window pane. Attached to its back was an unsealed scroll, tied with an elegant black ribbon.

Against his own better judgment, Satetsu's breath quickened as he imagined the possibilities of the contents. Excited, he snapped the round window open, granting the bird access before he shut out any more frigid air. His heart rattling in suspense, he roughly grabbed the scroll from the hawk's back, ignoring its quips of discontent.

Fingers clumsy with nerves, he struggled for a while with the ribbon, before growing exasperated, and simply summoning a shard of iron sand to sever the bond. By the way the paper jumped out of its furl, it was recently rolled up and sent, meaning that the original source had to be nearby.

As Satetsu grasped the delicate scroll of paper, his hands were trembling so madly, he had to hold the letter steady against the headboard of his bed, sitting down so his legs wouldn't collapse under his weight.

Eyes scanning over the first word, he felt his heart hurtle into his throat, recognizing the careful script that he had memorized to be Sasori's.

"_Satetsu-sensei,_

_I have not forgotten you. Let's train again._

_~Sasori"_

Though the words were short and deliberate, it was clear what the boy wanted. The Sandaime's teeth clenched in muffled joy, and his ebony eyes were gleaming with excitement. Sasori wanted to meet him again, on the sand dunes where they'd practiced so many hours…

He was still alive. Satetsu closed his eyes and lifted his head to the sky, mouth slightly agape in relief. Oh Kami, he was still alive.

**--xoxoxo--**

The sand dunes were coated in the thinnest film of weak sunlight, burning fine holes through Satetsu's quaking body. He was nervous—there was no denying it. What did Sasori look like now? It'd only been three months, but there was no telling what that time on the run could've done to the boy.

He chanced a glance around him, finding, of course, nothing. It was barely five in the morning, but they'd always trained at the break of dawn, and he was too anxious anyhow, to wait in his office any longer. If he'd been found, the office helpers would've stopped him from coming, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Sasori?" He asked, voice cracking. He cleared his throat, repeating the precious name.

When no answer came, he sighed, rocking back and forth on his heels. This wait was killing him…

But then, over the nearest sand dune, came a small figure. His heart pace quickened erratically, and his eyes widened, trying to decipher the form. The first thing that jumped out at him was the shag of red hair. That was enough. But as he ran forward to envelope the boy, he noticed more about the approaching person.

A black cloak, loose-fitting on the tiny frame, patterned with blood-red clouds. The symbol of the Akatsuki. Satetsu felt himself freeze in his tracks, and his veins seemed to congeal suddenly, pausing all blood flow.

Sasori… oh, Sasori. Time became meaningless as the diminutive redhead came face to face with his former sensei.

"Satetsu." He acknowledged shortly.

The brunet stared at the boy blankly, and suddenly, completely uncaring of what had happened in the past three months, the Kazekage grabbed Sasori's bony shoulders, and stole a long, hard kiss. His breathing was ragged and needy, and he made up for the lack of air, by pulling Sasori's body tight against his. The bittersweet kiss was broken when a familiar hand pressed against his broad chest, asking for him to cease. He reluctantly pulled away, staring longingly down at the teenager.

"Satetsu," he repeated, his voice now laced with amusement.

"Sasori," he gasped back, shaking the frail body in agony. "Sasori, where the hell have you _been_? Do you realize how much I missed you?"

The boy stepped back, breaking free from the Kazekage's grasp easily. "My leaving wasn't about you," he promised, smiling slightly.

The brunet felt his heart pang, but not in love. It was a warning. Something had happened, he knew it. Only bitter cold could be found under Sasori's words, and it terrified him, even as the most powerful Kazekage there'd been. "You joined Akatsuki." He stated flatly, trying to iron his tone of broken emotion.

A sick grin filled the pale face of his former student. "Do you disapprove, Satetsu-sensei?" He asked, almost provocatively.

The taller frowned, reminded of a common household conversation. It was as if Sasori was acting the rebel teenager against his parent, acting rashly simply to disappoint. "What happened to you?" He demanded stiffly.

A nauseous feeling grew in Satetsu's stomach as Sasori shook back his baggy sleeves, revealing his slender, pale wrists. "Feel," he commanded, holding forth his arms.

Wary, the Kazekage ventured a hand forth, quickly grabbing one. His eyes involuntarily widened dramatically, and he desperately seized the other, feeling them with the illness growing in his gut. "Oh Kami, Sasori, oh Kami…" They were cold and lifeless, no blood to speak of in the appendages. "What is this?" He interrogated, clenching one as if trying to get a reaction out of the young boy.

"I'm a puppet, Satetsu-sensei." Sasori beamed proudly, his childish face happily staring up like he was expecting praise. He casually unbuttoned his long cloak, relishing the brunet's sharp intake of breath as the garment fell to the sand.

His beautiful body was completely warped, demented into a malicious figure. Wooden and pocked with various contraptions, his smile widened as Satetsu mournfully traced a shaking finger over the cylinder where his heart belonged. The long, dark fingers moved to pull out the container, but Sasori's hand snapped to his, stopping him instantaneously. "You pull that out, I die." He informed his mentor quietly.

"Sasori," the Kazekage cried, his face contorted in anguish. "Sasori!" He fell on his student, embracing the cold figure tightly. "What made you do this?" He begged, feeling the strange body in his arms.

"Everything," the redhead hissed, his crimson eyes slit. "But I didn't come back to stay." At this, he could feel a tear silently fall onto his shoulder. He laughed quietly, leaning his head against his elder's. "Oh, you're crying, Sensei."

"Why did you return?" He heard the man inquire softly.

"I'm going to kill you." Sasori returned nonchalantly. The hold on his body immobilized abruptly.

"What?"

"Not for Akatsuki. This is no mission. If it were, Orochimaru would've come with me." Satetsu wondered if Sasori had thrown out the Konoha murderer's name so easily, on purpose. "I need a puppet strong enough to buy me permanent status in Akatsuki, and you're the perfect human for me to use."

"So—"

"All those disappearances are because I had to kill people to turn into my puppets, yes." Sasori confirmed coolly. "Hiruko, your childhood friend, I'm shaping him into a splendid shield for me. And do you remember Tsuchi, that short-tempered woman who walked in on us once, and called me a bitch since? She actually made a wonderful close-combat puppet, though against Orochimaru, she's rather useless—"

"Stop!" Satetsu growled suddenly, reeling back from Sasori. "This—this is disgusting."

"Says the man who raped a twelve-year old child," the redhead reminded sweetly.

The Kazekage glared at his pupil. "It wasn't rape, you whore. You wanted it."

The boy's expression shifted dangerously. "Would you expect a sheltered twelve-year-old to know what you were doing? Anyhow, I'm not here to reminisce, either." From his pants pocket, Sasori pulled a scroll, and unfurled it with a flick of his wrist. A thick bang sounded, and a cloud filled the air, clearing slowly to reveal the puppet of Tsuchi. "'Give yourself to me,'" the redhead purred darkly, repeating the exact words Satetsu had used that last, final night.

"No," the man whispered hoarsely, staring at the changed boy. "Sasori, no, no, what happened?"

But he was done with conversation. The puppet flew forward, blades unsheathing quickly from the wrists of the corpse.

"NO!" The knives embedded themselves in the Kazekage's upper arms, the dizzying sound of flesh being slashed, greeting their ears.

"Don't go easy on me," the redhead taunted, pulling the blades out of the skin roughly. The puppet lunged forward again. This time, the mouth hung open to make way for a projectile kunai, its tip barbed with poison. The weapon flung straight at Satetsu's chest, penetrating his heart soundly.

The Kazekage collapsed to the floor, hands flying to the handle of the weapon in panic. He kneeled, seeing a pair of feet slowly stepping in front of him.

"I told you to not go easy," Sasori prompted scathingly. A thick dagger plunged into his exposed back, cuing a gag of torture from the brunet. Blood poured freely from the four poisoned wounds in his body, and yet, he couldn't seem to fight back, even defend.

He lifted a hand to summon iron sand, but his fingers couldn't clench tight enough to crush the boy before him. His best effort was a thin sprinkling of the black material, falling weakly around Sasori's feet. He pounded the floor of the desert with his fist, still clutching his heart with the other. Why couldn't he even defend himself? But the answer was so obvious.

He could never hurt Sasori. The boy could burn down all of Suna, destroy the whole world, and he would never, no matter how strong his urge, be able to kill the child, for that was all he was. And he loved him. When he blacked out, he let himself go, if only for Sasori.

**--xoxoxo--**

A stagnant, foul smell instantly came over Satetsu's senses, and he coughed hoarsely, struggling to regain feeling in his numb limbs. When the appendages refused to pay heed to him, he lay back, and took in his surroundings with his fogged eyes.

He appeared to be lying on a wooden board, somewhat like an operating table. Just above his prone head, was a gently flickering candle, its orange flame searing into his vision. The light cast from the fire hung on the ceiling, giving the entire room an ethereal look.

Inhaling sharply, he suddenly recognized the stench of formaldehyde and other chemicals. Curious and fearful at the same time, he made to sit up, but in the process, slapped a dark hand to his chest, which he noticed was stripped bare, except for a thick layer of bandages around the heart wound. Looking down, he saw that he was still in his pants, but all of his ninja tools and weapons had been taken away. He choked, feeling the effects of the poison that lurked in his veins, bringing his death ever closer.

His entire body was stiff from his long-held position on the board, so when he heard the door behind him groaning open, he seethed as he tried to turn around suddenly.

"Ah, you're awake."

Satetsu winced at the cold voice, but was relieved to not recognize it as Sasori's. The tone reminded him of slithering snakes, which slightly cushioned the shock as the owner of the voice revealed himself in the Kazekage's vision. It was indeed the very Orochimaru his pupil had spoken of.

"Where is he?" He asked instantly, fingers clutching his wound tighter as the bandage started to seep blood.

The pale criminal released a low chuckle. "Funny, they normally ask where they _themselves_ are, first." The man drummed his long, white fingers on the table that Satetsu lay on. "I understand you're the kidnapped Sandaime Kazekage of Sunagakure, right?"

"Please, where's Sasori?"

Orochimaru plowed on, completely ignoring the brunet's desperate questions. "And you've had a three year long relationship with Sasori, no? Huh…"

The tone, with which the ex-Konoha ninja spoke, instantly caught Satetsu's attention. "What do you mean?"

"You've had sex with him." Orochimaru accused darkly, his golden eyes suddenly glaring into the Kazekage's.

Satetsu winced at this definition, never thinking of it as sexual, as but more emotional than anything else. "What of it?" He asked quietly, staring defiantly back at the Leaf-nin.

"Just thought you might like to know that you're not the only one he's been with anymore." A sick, sadistic smirk twisted Orochimaru's bleached lips as he eagerly awaited his victim's reaction.

A stone dropped in Satetsu's stomach, as he absorbed what the pale man had just told him. "Sasori…" He whispered to no one in particular, his heart pulsating in more than physical agony now.

"Orochimaru," snapped a well-memorized voice. Both heads turned to face Sasori who now stood in the door frame, a fierce stare directed to his teammate. "What are you _doing_? Get out of fuck out. I'm operating."

He raised a scalpel in his small hand, which Satetsu knew to be meant for him. But this fact still didn't perturb him as much, compared to knowing that Orochimaru had gotten to Sasori.

"Of course. I'm sorry." The snake-like convict laughed, passing the Kazekage's board and approaching the exit. As he went by the redhead, he moved a hand forward, but before he could touch the boy, the scalpel lifted threateningly, an equal warning in the scarlet eyes.

Left alone with his previous mentor, the runaway closed the door with an ominous click, and then made his way across the room, standing at Satetsu's table.

Before he could do anything, the Kazekage spoke roughly, trying to conceal the hurt in his words. "Orochimaru's taken you, hasn't he."

Sasori narrowed his blood red orbs, a frown of disgust on his flawless lips. "Against my will, yes."

Satetsu felt his throat tauten, a knot forming in his stomach. "Sasori… No… He's _raped_ you before?" When the small boy nodded reluctantly, he cupped the frozen face, studying the crimson irises in horror. "Oh, Sasori…"

"It doesn't matter," the ex-Suna ninja scoffed, pushing the Kazekage back onto the board roughly. "You're going to die tonight. Why should you care?"

"Because I love you," Satetsu retorted sharply, looking intently at his student with pain.

"Whatever," Sasori sighed, turning to pull out several other scalpels from a drawer on the table. "Ugh… I have to clean this blade off…" He muttered, holding a long knife in the air, examining the blood-stained metal in the dim candlelight. "Don't run, or you'll suffer even more." He advised quietly.

"Sasori," the Kazekage began softly as his killer moved to leave, "is there anything else I can do for you?"

The redhead turned to his victim with a dark sneer. "No amount of bargaining's going to get you out of this, Satetsu-sensei."

"I didn't mean bargaining… But is this all you want of me?"

"Your body? Yes." Sasori answered, tapping his lifeless fingers impatiently against the handle of a knife.

"No power, money or anything?" He clarified, voice faint.

The redhead rolled his eyes impudently, as he had always done so before. "Nothing but your corpse, Kazekage-sama, that's right."

Satetsu hummed in acknowledgement. "Okay, thank you. I'll just wait here for you to come back, then."

Sasori cocked an eyebrow at his prey strangely, but wordlessly walked away to clean his surgical blade.

Left by himself in the cold room, the Suna leader sighed, content with his fate. He was disappointed by himself, of course, for leaving his beloved village to cope on its own. But he found a greater duty in appeasing the one he loved. If this was really what Sasori wanted, then he would so willingly give it to him. How could he deny the sweet boy of what he needed, anyhow? If it was his life that the redhead wanted, then of course he could take it.

The teenager's return to the room was announced by a short laugh of surprise. "You haven't run."

"Of course not."

Sasori held the knife above his teacher's throat now, ready to begin. "Since you're my sensei, I'll give you a choice of being sedated while I cut you open and kill you."

Satetsu smiled lopsidedly. "You've always had a way with words, haven't you?"

"Just answer the damn question," the redhead demanded irritably.

"Actually… I'd rather not be sedated." The prone brunet confessed. "I want to see your face 'til the moment I close my eyes."

At this, Sasori's irises dilated slightly in shock. He was surprised by this, but dared not betray any more of his emotion. "You're so stupid…" He murmured, slipping the sharp edge of the knife from the man's sternum to his belly button. The blade let out a thin ripping noise as it sliced through the first layer of skin, letting loose tiny beads of blood. Satetsu hissed in pain, trying to contain his hurting.

"Tell me… Why would you want to stare into the eyes of your betrayer until you finally died?"

"Because—" he gasped as the knife repeated the motion, cutting deeper, "he's the most beautiful betrayer in the world, and I love him."

Sasori quickly bit down on his lower lip, the blade shaking in his hand. He quickly pulled the scalpel out of his mentor's body, wiping it off on a rag. Keeping his eyes low, he didn't risk looking into Satetsu's. "You're such a sap." He muttered critically. The knife returned to the light chocolate skin, tearing deeper and deeper.

When the Kazekage cried out suddenly, the deadly instrument stopped. "Sasori, I want you to tell me," he growled between pants, "that you're never going to let Orochimaru touch you again."

There was a long silence, only marred by his low breathing of anguish. Then, the redhead returned. "…Why?"

"Dammit, Sasori, how many times do you want me to repeat it? I _love_ you, and I never want you to be hurt by anything or anyone."

Looking up, he saw his student's face, transformed to be flat and bored. There was no response for a moment, and then Satetsu suddenly felt a needle enter his arm. He didn't cry out, but turned his head to stare at the syringe lodged in his skin. As soon as his eyelids began to feel heavy, he knew what Sasori had done.

"I _told_ you—"

"Have I ever listened to you before, Satetsu-sensei?"

He closed his eyes obediently, chortling. "No, I guess not…" He was dimly aware of a small, cold hand on his upper arm, pulling the syringe out, and then just resting there.

"…I'm sorry, Sensei." Sasori's voice was choked, and he felt a thick drop of liquid land on his lips. As the drop seeped into his jaw, he tasted the bittersweet flavor of salt. His tongue danced in his mouth, savoring the tang.

"That's okay," he mumbled back, already half-gone. The next thing he was aware of was a pair of soft lips, forced pleasantly down on his. They stayed there for a moment, before parting, leaving Satetsu asleep and calm.

And then he gave Sasori his life.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope that was to your liking... :D And sorry about the OroSaso. It's a disease. I can't write one damn story with both of them in it, without making Orochimaru rape the fuck out of Sasori. ;^; Press the funny button down yonder, please? XD


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